Page 28 of Holiday Hoax

She’s slipped her shoes off and is rinsing out a coffee pot when I approach. “Here,” I say as I hand her one of the glasses. “To a successful night.” I tap the rim of my glass to hers.

“It was good, wasn’t it?” She closes her eyes as she takes a sip. “This wine is probably the best I’ve ever tasted.”

My eyes dip to her mouth as her tongue sweeps along her lush bottom lip. She looks up and catches me staring before quickly looking away.

“We should sit down and relax while we finish off this bottle.” I gesture to the couch.

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” she says as she moves around the counter. She sits on one end of the couch and lifts her feet onto the cushion beside her. “Do you mind if I have my feet up? They’re killing me.”

“Not at all. Make yourself comfortable.” I lean forward and set my glass of wine on the coffee table. “In fact, put your feet here.” I pat my lap.

“Oh, no.” She starts to put her feet down, but I grab them and set them on my thigh. “You don’t have to rub my feet again.”

“What if I want to?” I firmly run my thumb along her arch.

Her lips part on a moan as her head falls to the side. I’m not sure if she knows how sexy she is or not, but between the noise coming from her throat and the exposed curve of her neck, my dick surges to life. A mischievous glimmer shines in her eyes, a signal that something wild is about to come out of her mouth.

“Who am I to deny you your foot fetish?”

I laugh and shake my head. “No foot fetish here.”

“I don’t know.” She smirks. “You got awfully territorial over the thought of me selling feet pics on the internet. Then you buy me a dozen pairs of designer shoes. You’ve rubbed my feet twice now. Or do you do this for all your fake girlfriends?”

“Not even for my real ones.” I hit the spot on her foot that makes her eyes drift closed in pleasure.

“Why me then?” She opens an eye to look at me.

“Maybe I have a Mia fetish.”

Her lips pull back into a smile as she chuckles. “How many glasses of wine did you have tonight?”

“This,” I point to my mostly untouched glass on the table, “makes two. I’m stone cold sober.”

Her cheeks flush as she looks away. I brace myself for her to leave, to reject my interest. She probably should. But then she looks back at me, interest sparked in those warm, brown eyes of hers.

“Are you hitting on me, Ian? Flirting with your fake girlfriend?”

My heart beats loudly in my chest as I reach over and take her glass from her hand and set it on the coffee table. She watches every move I make with rapt attention. When I grab her hands and pull her onto my lap, she comes willingly. Her knees settle on the outside of my thighs.

“If I said, yes, I was? Could you blame me?” My hands cup her hips, squeezing the soft curve of her body.

Her hands move onto my shoulders, gently kneading the tension in my muscles. “I guess it could help us with our chemistry.” She leans forward, her lips mere inches from mine.

“I’m not sure that we need to work on our chemistry, but it can’t hurt.” I close the distance between us until our lips are just a whisper apart. “But it’s your call, and I’ll respect it either way.”

My heart beats once. Twice. And then she leans in and fits her mouth over mine. I lock my desire in a cage, too scared to let her feel the power of it. Every single night that I’ve been away from her, I’ve jerked off imagining this specific scenario. Her soft and pliant on my lap, grinding her hot, slick center over my cock. Pre-cum seeps from my tip.

I give her control to take what she wants from me. Her fingernails rake over my scalp as her hips rock against me. Shemakes the cutest little grumble when her dress gets tangled with her legs. My mouth goes dry when she sits up to fix it, a flash of lace-topped stockings peeks from beneath the material as she adjusts it so she can get closer.

I grab the hem, rubbing it between my thumb and forefinger in an effort to keep myself from pushing it up her thighs. “Is this okay?” I check in with her.

“Yes. More than okay.” Her tongue slides past my parted lips, gliding along my own.

She gasps when her core meets my hard on. Even with all the layers between us, I can feel her heat seeping into me. I need more, and I damn well know she does too, so I wrap my hands around her waist and pull her body forward until I’m pressed against her center.

“I need to touch you,” I whisper against her lips.

“Yes.” She nods. “Anywhere.”

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